


Pay Back

by OtherCat



Series: Atlantis 2505 [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: AU, D/s, Humor, Kink, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-06
Updated: 2006-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 15:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtherCat/pseuds/OtherCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Rodney gets a little "revenge."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pay Back

It was too damned hot.

Rodney woke with his face mashed into John's shoulder, half sprawled on top. John was asleep, and whoever said that people looked younger and more innocent as they slept had never met Sheppard. Eyes closed, body free of tension, and so deeply exhausted he hadn't woken up the instant McKay had, he still managed to project an air of wary defensiveness.

He _should_ get up and see if he could do something about the air conditioner, which appeared to be broken again, but the heat and fatigue caused by the adventures of the past few days--and the celebration last night--kept him pinned to the bed, singing a siren song of procrastination. A quick glance around revealed that aside from the drivers up front, no one in the transport was awake. Rodney smiled. Perfect.

With slow, careful movements, Rodney tied John's wrists above his head to the frame of the bunk with some leather shoelaces. John never woke, though he frowned and mumbled something in a patois so thick Rodney understood maybe one or two words. He moved back onto his heels, on the narrow bunk and unzipped John's pants, and carefully pulled them down to his knees. That woke John up, eyes wide and comically startled as he realized he was bound to the bunk. "What're you up to, McKay?" John whispered.

Rodney grinned evilly. "Pay back?"

"Didn't do nothing," John said, and tugged at his bonds. Squirmed, but Rodney's knots all held.

"_Anything_," Rodney corrected absently, and began stroking John. Arms, chest, thighs. "Except you did." John was shuddering under his touch, pushing up into his hands. "Not that I didn't have _fun_ eventually, and I don't mind the _voyeurism_ quite so much but I draw the line at blind folded kissing games--much too juvenile for my taste, thank you very much." Rodney didn't remember who'd proposed the game, which was probably fortunate for them--the last thing Rodney wanted to know was that John always knew who was kissing him, or that Ronon tasted like the licorice root he liked to chew.

"You're absolutely right, McKay," John said quickly. "Absolutely no kissing games ever, I've learned my lesson." John squirmed some more, face flushed and pupils dilated. "Untie me." The request was half hearted at best.

"Somehow I doubt that," Rodney said, and leaned in to kiss John, rubbing off against him. John _moaned_ and it was Rodney's turn to shudder as the sound seemed to travel down his spine and directly to his cock. "You really want me to untie you?" Rodney whispered, and sucked on a patch of skin just below John's ear.

"Fuck," John said, and bucked. "McKay--"

"Only if you're very, very good, Major," Rodney said, and hoped the line didn't sound as ridiculous to John as it did to him.

Given the way John flushed, and his eyes darkened, it didn't. "I'm _always good_." John leered up at Rodney, and then did something absolutely obscene with his tongue.

"Of course you are, Major," Rodney said, and on impulse, pulled John's shirt over his head, blinding him. John squirmed, and tried to voice a protest that trailed off into a gasp when Rodney leaned in and planted a sucking kiss along John's collar bone. "I wouldn't mouth off if I were you," McKay murmured. "I might gag you," he flushed, even as he said it, but his voice was even, and John couldn't see him, couldn't see how flustered he was by his words.

John went still underneath him, a _considering_ sort of stillness that almost made Rodney want to take the words back somehow. Before he could though, the stillness turned (in some manner Rodney couldn't describe) into something pliant and _yielding_. "I'll be good," John said, voice like a velvet touch.

"Glad to hear it," Rodney said, and tried to use the 'you are an idiot, but at least you have the sense to see it' voice. He covered John, and began to rub off against him again, cock sliding against cock in slow motion, stopping every time John bucked up, or tried to hurry the pace. He kissed and sucked at John's skin, peripherally aware that he'd awakened Zelenka and Bates. Bates immediately disappeared in the front, but Zelenka fumbled for his glasses.

Rodney flushed again and almost stopped what he was doing, but the noises John was making distracted him from his embarrassment, and made him quicken the pace--slightly. John's grasp of Standard English had completely vanished and he was babbling curses and pleas in the mainland patois, writhing beneath Rodney.

Rodney in turn held on tight, rubbing and humping faster, wanting to come first, as if this were a race, and then he was coming in spurts over John's stomach and chest, breathing hard as if he'd been running, letting his full weight rest on John's hips. "Bastard," John gasped, and squirmed.

"You want to be left like this?" Rodney asked. "That might be fun."

"You wouldn't," John said--but he didn't sound absolutely sure of this.

"I might," Rodney said, and tried very hard to sound cruel. "I could, you've been such a bad influence."

"Shakin' in my boots, McKay," John said.

"He is ticklish," Zelenka said, and Rodney jumped, remembering they weren't really *alone* by any stretch of the imagination. "Especially his feet."

"Traitor," Sheppard growled, but Zelenka only grinned like a boy.

Rodney was struck by an entirely inappropriate image of the crew as children, having a slumber party and having a tickle fight. He snorted in amusement, tugged the shirt back down, and bent to kiss John, careful and sweet and slow. John _melted_ a little under him after a brief moment of tension, pliant and open again, though John's eyes were wicked and promised retribution later. Rodney found he didn't mind the thought at all, or the breathy noise Zelenka made as he watched. "Should I let Zelenka tickle you, Major?" Rodney asked.

John said "no," at the same moment that Zelenka said "yes!" John was hard, and his hips moved, trying to get just a little friction going. Rodney settled more of his weight on John, not giving him any leverage to rub. Zelenka made another soft sound, moving forward as if hypnotised.

"May I?" Zelenka asked, and it was clear he was asking Rodney, and not John. There was something about being (temporarily) in control of John, of this situation that was incredibly arousing--and equally frightening because he so desperately didn't want to screw up.

John hadn't protested beyond saying "no," so Rodney gave a brief nod of permission, not trusting himself to speak. Zelenka grinned, his hand touching the back of Rodney's neck as he moved in for a brief kiss. Rodney's breath caught, and John shivered beneath him. "Not what I--" Intended.

"I know," Zelenka said. "I could not resist." Another grin. "I will go see what's wrong with the air." Before he left, he demonstrated where John's most ticklish places were, making the soldier squirm and gasp threats in between breathless laughter.

When Zelenka headed into the back, John muttered, "just you wait, McKay, Zelenka, you all have to untie me sometime."

"Yes, but not right now," Rodney said, and kissed John before he could make more threats, then reversed his position on the bunk. He settled himself, and bent to lick and then suck John's cock. John bucked up, and Rodney moved back slightly, pinning John's thighs before returning, slipping down and then up and taking in as much of John as he could.

John was moaning, nuzzling at Rodney's thighs and anything else in reach of his mouth. "Rodney, move a little," he muttered, mouth warm on Rodney's skin. "Let me--" Rodney moved back immediately, groaned when he felt John's mouth on his cock.

His groan made John shudder and moan softly, then lick and suck, almost making Rodney lose track of anything but what John was doing to him. Rodney groaned again, and sucked hard, moving when John bucked beneath him.

It was a circuit, action/reaction, the world narrowing down to just them and what they were doing, the movement of the transport and the odd music of Zelenka cursing out the air conditioner and filtration system in the background. John came with a muffled shout, arching up and then falling lax and limp, breathing hard, and protesting incoherently when Rodney pulled free to clean himself and John. Then he untied John, and rubbed the circulation back into them before snuggling in beside John, and drifting back to sleep.


End file.
